


Don't Tell Mother

by A_For_Accidental



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Story of Two Brothers, Angst, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_For_Accidental/pseuds/A_For_Accidental
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a common rule between the two of them, from the time they were young, up until they were separated for the last time.<br/>Don't tell Mother.</p><p>(A study of the relationship between Sirius and Regulus)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Tell Mother

"Sirius!"

He looked up quickly, marking his place in the book he was reading and leaping off of his bed. When he reached the doorway, Sirius scanned the hallway before crossing over to Reg's room.

His brother was standing in the midst of his own room, a shocked expression on the eight year-old’s face. Sirius mirrored the expression as he took in the chaos around him--books, papers, and a few knick-knacks scattered around the room as if launched from the bookshelf which took up most of Regulus' wall. Regulus spun around, eyes wide. "Don't tell Mother," he whispered.

"What happened?" Sirius asked, righting a fallen floor-lamp.

"I was reading about wandless spells, and I just. . ." He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, as if at a loss for words. "I’m sorry."

Sirius sighed and nodded once. "Right, then," he said. "Let’s get this cleaned up, Reg."

A small smile twitched up on Regulus’s mouth, and Sirius snorted before tossing a wad of paper at him.

-

-

-

"Don’t let it fall!"

Regulus jumped forward, pushing his hands out in front of him. The small, glass sphere seemed to land in the air just above his hand, wavering on a small burst of energy.

Sirius laughed, smiling. "Great! Keep it up, you’ve got it!"

Grinning madly, Regulus bounced the ball around the room without touching it, the glass hovering inches above his open palm. He switched from hand to hand, arcing the ball over his head in quick movements. "Sirius, catch!" he cried, and launched the ball towards his brother’s head.

Sirius threw his hands in front of his face, stopping the ball before it touched his nose. "Nice aiming there, Reg," he said, raising an eyebrow. Regulus shrugged, still smiling.

They proceeded on for several minutes, volleying the ball back and forth, before Regulus spoke up. "I bet you can’t manage _three_ baubles," he challenged.

Before they knew it, six glass balls were flying around the room; spiraling around their heads, twirling around each other before flying into a group and following in a line, snaking under chairs and between legs. They were both laughing, hearts beating wildly as they ducked and caught and threw. The balls gained speed as they flew around the room, and Sirius stopped laughing.

"Reg," he said softly, and when one of the glass baubles exploded on the wall, he cried, "Regulus!"

Three more baubles were smashed against the bookcase, and a cry of alarm sounded from downstairs. Sirius had long since stopped controlling them, and he grabbed Regulus’ shoulders. "Stop! Quick!"

Regulus gasped, and the remaining balls dropped to the carpet with a thud. Tears began pricking in Regulus's eyes. "Please don't tell--"

"Shh!"

They were silent, their breathing the only sound that filled the room, until a screech echoed through the house. " _Sirius!_ "

"Bloody hell," Sirius mumbled. He grabbed Regulus--who looked ready to vomit--and shoved him towards the stairs. "Go upstairs, lock yourself in your room. Read a book or something." Regulus froze, shaking, and Sirius pushed him again. "Go. And _don’t_ tell Mother you were here, got it?"

Regulus nodded, as he dashed up the stairs, flew into his room, locked the door, and pressed his palms over his ears. He couldn't breathe, every nerve ending buzzing like a swarm of angry wasps. Regulus managed to stay quiet until he heard the first series of slamming noises coming from downstairs, and a tear rolled down his nose.

Later that evening, Regulus snuck into the dining room and quietly unlocked the cupboard with the key he’d swiped from one of the elves. Sirius looked up, squinting against the sudden light filling up the cupboard. He was handed a blanket, a sizeable piece of bread, and a faded copy of _Tales of Beedle the Bard_. "Sorry," Regulus whispered, and he carefully hugged his brother --mindful of the welts across his back and arms-- before closing the door and locking it again. Sirius swallowed down a sob threatening to slip out, and tried to settle himself down for the night.

-

-

-

"Please, _please_ don’t tell Mum."

" _She’s going to find out eventually,_ " Regulus said sternly. " _This isn’t just something you can hide. They send out a letter, or it gets put in the Prophet._ "

Sirius sighed. Ran a hand through his hair. Tugged a bit at the strands. "Just, I dunno. Burn the paper and hide the mail."

" _Kreacher would know. He knows everything. You know he snoops around everywhere. Oh, and Mother found out about the floo powder you swiped._ "

"Damn it--Sorry, Reg." Regulus didn’t like it when Sirius swore. He said it reminded him too much of Bellatrix.

" _It’s fine_."

He sat in silence for a moment, the snapping and cracking of the fireplace the only sound in the room. Then he started giggling.

" _Sirius?_ "

Calming himself, Sirius smiled. "I’m in Gryffindor."

" _Yeah, that’s sort of the problem, here._ "

"No, no, Reg. It’s. . . I’m. . ." He shook his head, the words lost on him until they weren’t. "I’m not like her." There was another brief pause before he added, "Don’t. . . tell Mum I said that. Just. . ."

" _Don’t tell Mum. Got it._ "

"But, Reg, you. . . You should’ve been there, Reg. On all the other Slytherins, the hat, it--" Sirius took a moment, composing himself. "It was like it didn’t even have to think, just knee-jerk that they would be there, but. . . For me, it. . . " He took a deep, shaking breath. "It paused. Hesitated. Started to say it, then stopped and thought for a moment, and seemed almost reluctant. Then--well, you know."

" _. . . Are you alright, Sirius? You. . . You wanted this?_ " Regulus sounded unsure, even confused. Sirius laughed.

"I didn’t even know I wanted it until now." And that was true; even seeing the people he’d met on the train--and the few friends he’d made, Remus, then James--get sorted into Gryffindor, it never even crossed his mind that he would be sorted in with them. He’d unknowingly accepted his fate as a Slytherin, like the generations before him, but the Sorting Hat knew differently. It was exhilarating. It was thrilling.

It was awful.

" _Sirius? I have to go now, Mother’s just woken up._ "

Sirius nodded, running a hand over his face. "Alright. Yeah. Good, uh, g’night, Reg. Miss you."

" _Bye, Sirius. Miss you too._ "

-

-

-

Sirius grinned and pressed the small package into Regulus’s palm, watching his face light up. "Sorry I missed your eleventh," he said quietly, eyes flicking around the hall. They were lucky, today; this hall wasn't normally so empty. "I got you this, though."

Regulus raised an eyebrow and quickly tore into the paper, revealing a plain cardboard box. "You," Regulus started, "got me a box?"

"Open it, you tosser!" Sirius laughed, and Regulus grinned as he did so.

A slight rumbling noise came from inside, and when the lid was off a shining metal thing rose from inside. It was completely grey, except for the image of a bird on the top; two pieces of metal jutted out of the sides, and on the front was a rapidly spinning propeller. It was barely the size of Regulus’s hand.

"What is it?" he asked, staring as the thing began to fly in lazy circles around his head.

"It's a model aeroplane," Sirius explained. "It was just a toy at first, but James helped me work a charm so it would fly around, just like a real one." He puffed up proudly, completely unashamed of how well it had come out. It took him weeks to get the spell just right.

"An aeroplane," Regulus repeated, eyes glued to the metal contraption as it flew back around and landed in the box, engines sputtering to a halt. "Those are Muggle machines, aren't they?"

Sirius felt his heart leap into his throat. "Well," he said, "yeah. It's crazy, isn't it? Muggles climb into these metal tubes, launch themselves miles into the air, and they trust that? Daunting, if you ask me--"

"Sirius," interrupted Regulus. "Where did you get this?"

 _Bollocks_. "Ah, a friend gave it to me. My friend Remus. He's same year as me and James."

Regulus looked from the plane to Sirius, expression confused. "But--"

"Pads!"

Both boys turned to find a sandy-haired Gryffindor jogging towards them, a worried look on his face. "Hey, we've got Potions--oh, sorry. Was I interrupting?"

A breath rushed out of Sirius's chest that he hadn't realized he was holding, and he grinned as he clapped Remus on the shoulder. "Nope, no problems there, Moons. Say--" Sirius gestured to Regulus, who jumped at the sudden movement. "Have you met Reg?"

Remus gave him a once over, smiled, and held out his hand. "I believe he's been mentioned before. You're Sirius' little brother, aren't you?"

Hesitating before shaking Remus's hand, Regulus nodded. "Yeah. That's me"

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Regulus, but we really must be going." Remus smiled again, and something about seeing him so friendly towards Reg made Sirius want to hug him, melt into a puddle, or hide in embarrassment.

"Right you are," Sirius exclaimed, nodding. "We'd best be off, then." He nodded at Regulus and turned to follow Remus to their next class, but was stopped when Regulus grabbed the sleeve of his robes.

"Sirius," he said carefully, "he's not a--he's not a _muggle_ born, is h--"

Sirius grabbed Regulus arm, subtly yet forcefully. "Just leave it, alright? He's fine. I'm fine. We--we're fine." He backed away, letting his panic ebb a bit. "Sorry, Regs. But could you, um, don't tell Mum about this, all right?" He went to leave, then stopped and turned around. "Congrats on making Slytherin, by the way. Bet she was proud, yeah?"

He left Regulus standing in the middle of the hall, clutching the box between his hands with a startled expression on his face. Sirius could feel his breakfast creep up his throat, but swallowed hard and tried not to let what he'd just said sink in too much.

"You alright?" Remus asked as they walked, and Sirius shook his head, clearing his mind of darker thoughts.

"Yeah," he said, then he smiled a bit too forcefully, put a bit too much of a bounce in his step. "I'm fine."

-

-

-

"That Potion's exam was wonderful, don't you think?" Elise asked, adjusting her scarf then sticking her hands in her pockets, grinning.

"Sure," said Regulus, "if you think that extracting fresh lizard eyes is a walk in the park."

"It wasn't that bad!"

"It was disgusting."

"Aw, Ickle Regulus," Elise teased. "D'you want me to do it for you next time?"

Regulus gasped, clutching his chest. "You wound me, madam. You truly wound me."

Elise laughed out loud and bumped his shoulder. "Come on, you know you love me."

He tried to maintain his composure, but a smile slipped through. "Do I? You? When did that happen?"

"Ooh, I've half a mind to deck you here and now, Black." She reached up and took off her cap, fixing her hair so it sat properly. Regulus found himself staring as her deft fingers as they threaded through her mess of tight blonde-brown curls. When she made eye contact--warm, welcoming eyes--Regulus looked away quickly, coughing to cover up the obvious blush rising to his cheeks.

"Um, Regulus?"

He looked back up, and Elise pointed behind him.  Regulus turned to find his brother leaning against a lamp post, watching with a dubious expression. "Bollocks," Regulus sighed, and turned back to Elise. "Sorry, Lis. Could you, ah, could I meet up with you in a bit?"

Elise -- beautiful, perfect Elise -- smiled and nodded. ""S cool. I’ll catch you later then, alright Reg?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Thanks." Elise bobbed her head again and waved before turning away, walking towards the storefront where her friends were huddled with hot chocolate against the wind. Regulus sighed, his heart swelling harshly until he could barely breathe.

"Who's the bird?"

Regulus nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning and meeting his brother face to face. "Gods, Sirius!"

Sirius chuckled. "Not quite, Reg." He shoved his hands into the pockets of the ridiculous leather jacket that nearly gave their mother an aneurysm. Regulus remembered the day she found out--she'd attempted to burn it twice, but Sirius had placed several protection charms on it.

"Fancy a butterbeer?" Sirius asked, and Regulus agreed, which found them both in the Three Broomsticks, fiddling with their glasses and sitting in companionable silence.

"So," Sirius began, setting down his pint with a solid _thunk_. "What's her name?"

Regulus took a moment to swig from his butterbeer. "Elise," he said. "Elise Yarin."

Sirius hummed thoughtfully. "Yarin, huh. She's a Hufflepuff, isn't she?"

"Yeah. We met in Potions second year. She's brilliant at it, brilliant at everything. No idea why she wasn't in Ravenclaw, she'd have fit in well."

"Yarin, Yarin," Sirius repeated, scratching at his chin. Regulus noticed he'd started growing a sparse beard. "Ah, now I know. She's got a brother, doesn't she? Pierre, right? He’s in my year."

"Yeah." Regulus felt a weight settle heavy in the pit of his stomach. If Sirius already knew Pierre, he was likely to know--

"They've  got muggle parents, right? In France?" Sirius stared at him expectantly, nibbling on the corner of a biscuit. Regulus nearly died.

“Y-Yeah,” he said quietly. Regulus didn’t look up, didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He folded the corner of his napkin. Took another sip of his drink. Set it down. Breathed. “Yeah,” he repeated, more forceful this time. “They moved there from Ethiopia. Her parents were born there. They moved in just outside of _L'Quartier Latin_ , so near our neck of the woods.” He remembered the time Elise showed him the pictures she’d kept of her family; odd, non-moving pictures that showed her parents and five children all with the same, dark, warm skin. Elise and Pierre were the only two in their family with magic in their blood--evidently one of their ancestors was a witch-doctor, or something of the sort, but it got lost through generations.

The brothers fell silent after that, declining an offer to top off their half empty mugs. Regulus finally spoke up.

“You, ah, you won’t tell Mother. Right?” he asked carefully, barely looking up enough to see Sirius’s reaction. What he wasn’t expecting was a chuckle.

“You really think I would?” Sirius replied, leaning back in his chair with a soft smile on his face. “One son is already disowned, she doesn’t need to know about the other dating someone who doesn’t have their family history in her library.”

Regulus snorted. “True.”

Sirius sighed and raised his mug off the table, smile growing. “Well, then. Happy Christmas, Reg.”

Raising his mug, Regulus clinked his glass against Sirius’ with a soft, “Happy Christmas, Sirius.”

-

-

-

“Sirius?”

His head snapped up so fast, Sirius was sure that he pulled something. He started shaking. Maybe. He wasn’t really sure. He couldn’t tell. “Christ, Moony?”

Remus blinked slowly, squinting against the dim light filtering into the windows of the infirmary. Sirius watched as he tried to sit up, gasped sharply, and leaned back into his own pillows, eyes closed again. Remus seemed to need a moment to regain his breath before he spoke again. “I feel like shit.”

Sirius laughed shortly, rubbing at his face. He winced at the pain that sparked through his arm, but didn’t mention it further. “Yeah. Well. Lycanthropy tends to do that to people, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up, Pads,” Remus mumbled. It was another couple seconds before Remus opened his eyes completely, looking around at the small, curtained in hospital space the two of them shared, before his gaze finally settled on Sirius, who was sat on the chair beside him, and he froze.

“Oh gods,” he breathed. His eyes widened, and Sirius swore he could see tears begin to well up as Remus continued to repeat, “oh gods, oh gods, oh gods.”

Remus began shaking, now, harder than Sirius had ever seen, and Sirius placed a gentle hand on his shoulder; a comforting, grounding presence, but not to stop him. “Hey, Moons,” he said, moving his hand to push hair out of the werewolf’s marred face. “Remus, look at me. I’m fine. I’m here. It’s fine.”

“Wha-- _What?”_ Remus whispered harshly, voice wavering. “Are you fu-- are you-- oh my god.” His breath picked up, rapid and on the verge of sobs. Sirius moved quickly, leaning forward and wrapping his one good arm around Remus’s shoulders. He carefully slotted his face into the crook of Remus’s neck, breathing in the smells of blood, sweat, and the underlying scent that was undeniably _Remus_. He could feel a fluttering heartbeat against his temple, unnatural heat against his forehead, and he knew these things. These were things he’d known for years.

“I did this,” Remus choked into the darkness. “B-Bloody hell--”

Sirius held him closer. “Stop it,” he demanded. “I’m fine.”

“I nearly tore your bloody arm off.”

“It’s my fault, Moons. You were taking longer than normal to change back, so I went in to check on you. It was bad this time, Moony. You were out cold for almost two days.”

They stayed in silence again, Remus’s short, strangled breaths the only sound in the room. “Stop it, Remus.” Sirius said again.

“What?”

“Stop blaming yourself, I can practically hear you. I’ve known you for seven years, now, and I’ve never blamed you before. So stop it.”

“Sorry.”

It was a few more moments before Remus shifted on the bed, making just enough room for the other boy to squeeze onto the mattress and settle down. No matter how uncomfortable it was --they’d both grown over the past years, they were no longer small eleven year-olds who could lay together during sleepless, dark nights-- it was familiar and safe.

A scuffling noise echoed through the large room, but went largely unnoticed as both boys drifted into sleep.

-

-

-

The next day, Sirius was out of hospital and was passing between classes when he was dragged into an empty classroom.

He squawked and nearly fell flat on his back as he was thrown into the room, and suddenly Regulus was slamming the door closed, holding his wand near the lock until it slid shut with a click.

“What the _hell_ , Regulus?!” Sirius gasped, standing and moving for the door.

Regulus didn’t move; he pushed Sirius back to where he was before, a wild spark in his eyes. “Do you have a death wish, Sirius?” he asked. His voice was strangled.

Taking a moment to allow his mind to catch up, Sirius shook his head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You!” Regulus snapped. “Roaming about with that--that _thing_!”

Sirius saw red. “I’m sorry, _what?”_

“You heard me!” Regulus’s voice was shaking, but whether with rage or with nervousness, Sirius couldn’t tell. He took a deep breath, seemingly to calm himself. “I know what Remus is,” he said, less forced than before. “I heard you, in the infirmary. I was there. Just please, please hear me when I say that you’re only going to get hurt dealing with him. I mean--” he gestured to Sirius’ arm. “He’s already done it, hasn’t he?” Suddenly, Regulus went pale. “He didn’t _bite_ you, did he--”

They were both on the ground before Sirius knew what was happening. He had his fists balled in Regulus’s shirt, his knuckles turning white to match the shade of Regulus’s cheeks. “If you say that again,” Sirius threatened, but he didn’t continue. He honestly didn’t know what he would do. He’d never been in this situation before.

“What could come of this?” Regulus asked, shoving Sirius off and standing. “What’s gonna happen? You both are going to get yourselves _killed_ , please Sirius, just get away from him--”

“Where the hell did this come from?!” Sirius yelled. Then he paused. “Mother put you up to this. Didn’t she.”

“ _No_ ,” Regulus whispered. He looked ready to be sick.

Sirius found that he didn’t care, and some rational part of him, deep down inside, was horrified. “ _Didn’t she?!_ ” He barked again, charging forward. Regulus shrank away, eyes wide. “Did she make you dump Elise, too? Is that what you’ve become, huh?” Sirius spat, “Her little _pet?_ You’re just like her now, aren’t you? _Aren’t you?”_

Something seemed to snap in Regulus. He shoved, hard, and sent Sirius careening into a desk with a loud scraping noise. _“What else was I meant to be!?”_ he cried. A tear slipped down his cheek, landing on the floor. “What else was I meant to _do_ , Sirius?” Regulus sniffed once, and began pacing, like he always did when he felt cornered.

Sirius felt lightheaded. Everything buzzed.

“You were always there to take the fall,” Regulus whispered, as if he were afraid of his own voice. “You always took the blame. Where did that leave me, Sirius? It left me as the one good child.” He shook his head, and new tears fell. “I was the one she doted on, yeah. Because to her, I was the perfect one. Good Regulus. Polite Regulus. _Perfect_ Regulus. But that meant that I was malleable. She thought she could bend me to her will. And I watched her do it, Sirius. I was _horrified_.

“And now that’s all I can be,” Regulus continued, his voice growing in volume. “Is her pet, her tool, her _legacy_.” He spat the word, like it was poison on his tongue.

Sirius couldn’t breathe. “And Elise?” he asked hesitantly.

Regulus looked up from the floor, fixing Sirius with a glare that would have made his blood freeze. “I broke up with Elise because I didn’t want to see her hurt. I didn’t want her to have to deal with me, with _this_.” He tugged at the sleeve of his robes.

Sirius couldn’t _breathe_.

It was the same mark that had been on their mother’s arm for several years-- a snake weaving its way around a skull, through the mouth, creating a loop with its body. But this mark was different. This mark bore a sickening grid of lines; straight lines, crooked lines, deep lines, faint lines. All screaming without a voice, carving desperation and fear into Regulus’s skin.

Sirius was completely numb. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t feel _anything_. “When,” he asked.

“Last summer,” Regulus croaked, eyes not moving from his arm. “Mother dragged me to her cult gathering. Saying I was ready. I dunno for what.”

They stood in silence again, heavy breathing filling the air.

“I’m so sorry, Sirius,” Regulus finally said, his voice breaking. He tried to speak again, but Sirius watched as it dissolved into small gasps and sobs. He was by his brother’s side in a moment, sweeping-- or, at least, attempting to sweep --Regulus into his arms, holding him close to his chest as sobs wracked through his thin frame.

“I t-tried,” Regulus sobbed. “I tried to st-stop it, but she--she--I don’t know what she would have done--”

Sirius hushed him, allowing the both of them to slide to the floor. He pressed his lips into Regulus’s hair, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited.

It felt like hours of them sitting there, on the floor, and they felt like children again. Helpless against the wrath of their mother and their ever-absent father. Helpless against the world.

The sun set at some point, coating the room in a huge, endless darkness. Regulus’s sobs had since been reduced to sniffles and the occasional hiccups, but his arms were still wrapped firmly around Sirius’s neck. They were anchoring themselves on each other, it felt like.

They stood, eventually, and Sirius walked Regulus to the Slytherin commons. Before he slipped through the doorway, Regulus grabbed his good arm. “Don’t tell Mum,” he whispered. “Please.” Sirius nodded, hugged his brother hard, and left, eventually wandering the passages of the castle in a daze.

He somehow ended up in front of the Fat Lady. She didn’t even ask him for the password, just gazed at him solemnly and swung open.

After that, everything felt mechanical.

He climbed the stairs to the dorm.

He shed his clothes.

He climbed into bed beside Remus, who had been released that day.

Remus, without a word, enveloped Sirius in warmth and a steady presence.

When Sirius felt the tears coming, he didn’t bother holding them back.

-

-

-

It was weird, seeing Grimmauld Place quiet and empty. Usually there would be countless elves scurrying about, doing whatever needed doing at the time, but not now. Nearly all of the house-elves had been released, or had died, and the inhabitants of the house had since done the same.

Sirius stood in the kitchen, taking in the shelves of spices, platters, cutlery, all untouched for nearly half a decade. He supposed he should look and see if any of the house elves were still lurking about to help him clean up before Dumbledore and the Order arrived. The bedrooms were probably choked with dust, as well.

His train of thought came to a sputtering halt when he saw the piece of carefully folded parchment on the table.

Curious, Sirius picked it up and unfolded it.

_Sirius,_

_I’ve found something I think will help end this. I most likely will not return, and even if I do, I will most likely not return whole. Give Remus my regards._

_Sincerely, Regulus._

_P.S.  Don’t tell Mother._

 


End file.
